


Home

by Miss_Choco_chips



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics), Young Justice (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Tim Drake Gets a Hug, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim just wants a home, tim is a sad boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28894419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Choco_chips/pseuds/Miss_Choco_chips
Summary: Four times Tim just wanted to go home, and one time he’s actually there.
Relationships: Janet Drake & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent
Comments: 14
Kudos: 176





	Home

His mom is holding his hand, a rare occurrence. Were he in a more… stable state, he’d squeeze the moment for all it’s worth.

But the coldness of fear had his heart in an ice-like grip, and the scenery around them did little to appease him. Nothing, not even the warmth of being held, could keep him from shaking.

"I want to go home", he whispers in his mother’s ear when she picks him up in her arms. Safe against her body, he thinks he can feel his heart melting a bit around the edges where panic had frozen him over.

Mom tightened her hold, eyes leaving the crying kid and his dead parents for the first time in a long time. He feels how one of her hands drops its place under his leg to pat his back, more comforting than he ever thought she was capable of.

"Yes, we are leaving now. Jack? Bring the car over, we’ll wait here."

She doesn’t lower him until they are back at the manor. Then, his parents retire to their rooms, both to rest and prepare for their trip to the Bahamas the following morning. 

Tim shivers all night long, yearning for the warmth he was too distracted to appreciate a few hours ago, back at the circus.

This wasn't what he meant, when he asked to go home. He just wanted to feel safe.

\----.----

This… wasn’t what he expected. To being caught, that is. Especially by his hero.

Jason ( _ Robin, call him Robin, don’t you dare slip up, he can’t know you know! _ ) is looking down at him, hands on his hips. He’s doing his best to look stern, but the short shorts, pixie boots and unconscious thug at his back ruin the effect of his glare.

Tim, camera held tightly as it’s been for the last couple of minutes since the man came out of the shadows to try and steal it from him, distractedly thinks Batman should get on that, teach Robin his famous loom. He’s feeling starstruck, more than fearful.

"It’s too late for a squirt like you to be out. Streets are dangerous, no’ne told you? Specially ‘is parts o’the city", the young vigilante drawled, accent thicker than Tim recalled from back at the gala when their parents introduced them in passing. Not that Jason would remember.

"I… I’m not a squirt, I’m ten", he finally blurts out, wishing he could smack himself the second the words leave his mouth.

"Children should be in bed at this time."

He does his best to calm his erratic heart, and canalizes all the sass on his pint sized body to arch an eyebrow. "Hypocrite much?"

Robin growls, but Tim can tell he’s doing his best to hide a smile.

"I can leave you here, you know."

He knows Jason is bluffing, looking for a reaction, but the mere idea still makes his barely calming heart kick into overdrive again. The scare of a few minutes ago was too fresh on his mind. He already knows he won’t be going out again soon, not until he could plan a new route to photograph his idols while traveling only by rooftop, to best avoid the scum of the city.

"No, wait… please", he moves forward, hand taking a handful of cape, as if that could stop the vigilante if he actually was planning to leave.

Jason took the chance to wrap him on it like a little blanket, picking him up in his arms like a baby.

"Don’t worry, shortstack. I’m taking you home so I can be sure y’er actually following your bedtime."

Feeling a little braver in his hero’s arms, he fired back. "Don’t have any."

"Whatever, you lil liar."

"It’s true. You can ask my parents… that’s it, if you’re willing to go into my house for a chat. Masks are in bad taste though, you’ll have to take yours off."

Truthfully, both his parents are away on business. Not that he needed to know about the bluff.

This time, he didn’t bother to hide his amusement, letting his barking laughter come out.

"You little shit. I’m not giving you my secret that easy."

Tim just shrugs, painting his most innocent smile. It’s difficult to keep it in place when Jason asks for directions, and then drops him at his bedroom’s window.

The giddiness of meeting his hero can’t quench his disappointment when he watches Jason’s back as he leaves. 

A little, childish part of himself had believed, hoped (with all the innocence his heart had left), that when Jason said ‘take you home’, he was talking about his own. 

\----.----

He’s training as hard as possible. His body, shaped by the multiple teachers he hired through the years, hurts in a way he never thought possible, and has been like that ever since he first went to the training mats to face Bruce.

He knows the pain is necessary, what he learns there could be the difference between life or death (his eyes never fail to go to Jason’s suit, his altar, where he, as his worshipper, would always go ask for strength and courage), but it's hard to remember his purpose for being there when he goes to bed each night with aching limbs.

Still, he endures.

This last week has been both harder than any other, and the best he’s ever had. The first, because a full on out gang war had forced him, Dick and Bruce to work overtime, going out every night for twice their usual hours (thank god for spring break). The second, because to save time and strength, he’d been allowed to stay the night at the manor with them.

He can’t believe how nice it is to have breakfast with someone. Sure, they have it at like three pm, but still. The pained body was so, so worth this.

When they caught their last perps, all tied up and pretty for the GCPD, Tim was simultaneously absolutely beat and the happiest he’s been.

Batman puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes, saying ‘let’s go home, Robin’, and he thinks for a moment he’s dreaming again.

He actually sleeps a bit, on the Batmobile trip. Beyond tired, feels his body being raised and then lowered again on a soft surface, something warm over his chest, and then lights out again.

When he wakes up the next morning, he’s at Drake Manor. The breakfast table is empty, the hallways colder than he remembered, and he wishes last night had actually been a dream. It would hurt less, if it had been all in his imagination; instead, he has to live with the knowledge of being so close, yet so far.

Not for the first time, he wishes ‘home’ were a different place.

\----.----

He sighs, dropping his suitcase, uncaring of its contents. Anything important is on his phone anyway, who gives a fuck. Certainly not an overworked seventeen year old kid who’s just getting back after a long day. 

The place was clean, spacious and with a modern decoration style he kinda likes. The mechanic fishes certainly give it a nice touch, and the underground nerd cave he built for  himself is the cherry on top- bottom, whatever.

It’s a nice house. A place he made for himself, to come back to. With scanners that automatically alert him if some sneaky ninja plants a bug, or a snoopy family member was sniffing around for his toys. He knows everything that happens here, in this little kingdom he built from scratch.

Of course, there are some itty bitty problems with it. Not the layout itself, that one was a dream came true, and no security issue either: all of Ra’s thwarted attempts at having his people breaking in confirmed how tight it was.

But, for some reason, the thermostat didn’t seem to work. It was always way too cold. 

The soundproof walls were good at keeping his secrets under wraps, but they also made it seem so unnaturally quiet, it gave him the creeps.

No table in sight. Not that he needed one, he shrugs. Lunch he eats outside, at the office. Dinner is a quick thing, a sandwich while he gets ready for patrol or some other snack while he types away at his computer. Breakfast… he doesn’t know why, but he never feels right when eating it, so he skips it more often than not.

Sighing again, he falls face first into his absurdly pricey couch. Blindly patting the coffee table until he finds the blanket he always keeps there, he thinks about taking a lil nap. He didn’t sleep last night (or the one before that), so it feels like he’s earned this break.

Decision made, Tim takes his phone out of the secret pocket in his coat and selects the app that makes background noise. He always sleeps better with it.

Yeah. This is a nice, comfortable place.

Too bad it’s not home.

"I just want to go home", he whispers to himself before letting unconsciousness claim him. 

If asked, he’d said the break in his voice was a yawn and not a sob.

\----.----

When he wakes up, there's noise all around him. That alone puts him on guard so fast he would have pulled a muscle, if he were anyone else. As a Bat-trained vigilante though, he just tensed before opening his eyes to analyze his surroundings.

This… wasn’t his place, where he distinctly remembers falling asleep, face down on his couch. 

This was Titans Tower. Was he losing track of time? Had he been in a fight and got hit on the head? 

"Hey, you’re awake", Kon’s head poked out of the kitchen area, smiling as he floated all the way to where Tim was lying, on the living room’s couch.

The sight of his friend was enough to loosen his muscles. Still unsure but immediately comfortable he sat up straight and looked around. He could hear Bart and Cassie bickering in the background, probably the kitchen, Greta’s laughter coming to him from the same place, and those were Anita’s shoes and Cissie’s backpack near the elevator.

The first two and Kon, he could get. They were all Titans. But the three girls? They were retired, so what…

"Hey, boy wonder, let your brain take a break. I can hear you thinking from here and it’s giving me a headache", the super joked, landing by Tim’s side and poking his forehead lightly.

!That’s because you never think, you aren’t used to it", he fires back automatically. Then, a slow blink. "What are the girls doing here? What am **_I_ ** doing here? Last thing I remember I was… at the Perch. Sleeping."

"Yeah, and what a deep sleep that was. Been pulling all nighters, haven’t you?" His best friend shook his head, beyond giving Tim a disappointed look. They knew each other way too much to be surprised by their respective bad habit. "You didn’t even flinch when I wrapped you up in TTK and flew you here. And about the girls, I told Cassie and Bart I was gonna pick you up, and they decided to make a thing out of this and went to bring them here, just to hang out. Like back in the days, you know?"

The mention of their Young Justice times never failed to give Tim a heartache, but this time it just made him feel warm. 

He tried to look stern, but the smile he could feel growing on his lips against his will probably ruined it.

"But why did you? Bring me here, I mean."

Kon tilted his head, visibly confused.

"What do you mean? I heard you. You said you wanted to come home."

Something deep and frozen inside him abruptly melted, like it was hit by a flamethrower. The intensity brought tears to his eyes, body shaking uncontrollably as he bent over himself, hands clutching the opposite arm tightly, as if trying to hold himself in one piece.

Kon’s arms were around him in an instant, worried shouts piercing his ears as he plastered the smaller vigilante to his chest, unthinkingly helping him keep his broken pieces together. The warmth from his best friend’s body served as a welder, and Tim could finally breathe without the fear of breaking apart.

"Tim? Fuck, what’s wrong? Are you okay?! Here, dude, I got you."

"Kon? What is i- fuck, what did you do? Hey, Tim!"

"Rob? Oh my god he’s crying, why is he crying!"

The voices came closer, surrounding him from all directions as multiple hands touched him in an attempt to comfort.

It was too much, too warm, too bright.

He hoped it’d never end.

"I just…"

Everyone stopped talking. His voice was broken by sobs, but he sounded happier than they had ever heard him.

"I’m just happy I’m finally home."


End file.
